Wordle Special Addition Touch “August 29th, 2016”

Touch Wordle

We are only tangible in defect.
Each tear jettisoned
more malleable than the precedent.
Make of me what you will
but do not accuse me of deception.

Your rigid, self-deprecating smile
unravels against my lips.
The cleft in your heart,
a highway barbed on both sides.
I graze at your desultory borders.

You are angular in a sheath of satin,
feverish beneath sodden sheets,
I draw your hand to my cheek,
rough as a pumice stone.
You weather me as the sea
weathers all objects of diversion.

A viscous symbiont,
prickly with anticipation.
I feed on scars and deliberations,
the waxy carapace
of the primitive and conceptual.